Alice
by GreenEyedGoblin
Summary: Hers was not a name unfamiliar to Ciel, though he couldn't recall ever having met her personally. Lord Severin and Lady Lorraine, her parents, had been long time friends of the Phantomhive family. After their unfortunate and rather mysterious deaths, however, at which stage Ciel was hardly 3 years old, no contact had been made with their young daughter – not, that is, until now.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue  
**_

It was happening again.  
The servants scuttled back and forth, too panicked to think much further than their own hands and disheveled enough to make the scene appear almost comical. They perspired, they trembled, and – when there was a moment – they cried out to each other in distress. Icy winds appeared to blow from nowhere, carrying through the halls the chilling sound of tormented shrieks and wails. Up and down the servants carted medicine and blankets, buckets for the stomach that would not hold what it was given, and even more medicine.

Her room was a breeding ground for distress. The hot smell of vomit pierced the senses, making the servants retch, and the sight of her only brought tears to their eyes – so young and so fragile, her body contorted into vile poses of agony. Her countenance, which was usually as lovely as that of a doll or painting, had grown to become more ashen than cinders. Thick bruises of exhaustion marked her eyes, salty and bloodshot, and sweat coated her like a second skin. Already, two hours had passed. Sometimes, she would have collapsed into unconsciousness by then; other times, however, the scene would continue until the morning's sun peered through the windows of the chateau.

" _C'est pénible, mère!*"_ she wailed, clutching the air in search of her mother's hand. " _Mère… Père…"_

Another scream, but no mother or father reached to comfort her – as though it were not enough to suffer so wretchedly, as she did. There was only a stranger – a man whose eyes were as green as limes and his flesh as pale as bones – who took and cocooned her teeny fists in his palms. With lips both benevolent and doting, the man kissed her clammy fingers and stroked away the strands of mahogany hair upon her forehead.  
"I know it is, my lady," he whispered, though his voice was drowned out by the mingling sounds of her shrieks and retches. "I know it is. But the night will come to an end."

Indeed, it would. It always did – but there was no promise that she would see the morning. There never was.  
And so the servants continued to rush up and down, back and forth; her shrill cries continued to rattle the mansion; and he, the stranger so fond and patient, remained by her side. 

* * *

" _ **C'est pénible, mère!"**_ _– It is painful, mother._


	2. Chapter I

_**Chapter I**_

 _Bellerose_. Alice Ophelia Bellerose.  
Hers was not a name unfamiliar to Ciel, though he couldn't recall ever having met her personally. Lord Severin and Lady Lorraine, her parents, had been long time friends of the Phantomhive family. After their unfortunate and rather mysterious deaths, however, at which stage Ciel was hardly 3 years old, no contact had been made with their young daughter – not, that is, until very recently.  
It was at Sebastian's suggestion that, after the exchange of a number of letters, Ciel invited Lady Alice and her fiancé, should they ever find themselves in England, to visit Phantomhive Manor. What a coincidence it was, then, that they would be travelling to London only a few days later.

And so came the day, the young earl standing alongside his butler in the manor's great doorway. Squinting through the brightness of the afternoon, Ciel watched as a carriage, black like ink and drawn by a pair of matching, grand stallions, made its way up the driveway and eventually came to a halt. The driver was a stubby man – one who seemingly had no interest in even looking in Ciel's direction. With his snout-like nose thrown up into the air, he jumped down from his seat and moved to open the carriage door.

There was something about this carriage that made Ciel feel suddenly uneasy. Like a cloud, it settled upon him – a feeling which made his chest constrict and his fingers fidget. Indeed, he hardly enjoyed hosting guests, but it was not often that he felt quite so uneasy as he did then.

The door opened, and out came a girl – one who may well have been a porcelain doll brought to life, or perhaps even a ghost. Her skin was like ivory, white and glowing under the sun's touch, and her curls of mahogany were like silk against the flesh of her long, finely carved neck. Indeed, she was a most lovely creature, and even after only a single glance, it came as no surprise to Ciel that she, Lady Alice Bellerose, was known as the sweetheart of Paris.  
Taking her driver's hand as she stepped down from the carriage, Ciel saw a softening in the surly little man's features. Her eyes as blue as sapphires, she looked across the walls of Phantomhive Manor before resting her attentions upon Ciel, an endearing little grin painting itself upon her thin, pale lips.

"Earl," Lady Alice sang, stepping – or, rather, floating – towards her host, her voice a chime and her Parisian accent like silk.  
"Welcome, Lady Alice," Ciel greeted in return, taking his guest's hand as it was offered to him and planting a quick kiss upon the back of its lacy glove. "Did you travel well?"  
"Quite, thank you."

Another figure rounded the carriage, and upon catching sight of him, Ciel felt the same feeling of disquiet he had felt a few moments ago. This figure, a man, glided across the ground like a phantom, the black of his coat a stunning contrast to the white of his skin. His face, though one to be considered rather handsome, was like that of a statue – icy, hard stone – softened only by the fine locks of platinum hair that fell behind his ears and neck. And then there were his eyes. Greener than any earthly green behind a pair of spectacles, they seemed to pierce Ciel's flesh like a pair of talons and burn through the manor's walls like liquid nitrogen.

The young earl swallowed against the invisible, iron fist that took hold of his throat, inhaling deeply as Lady Alice turned to look over her shoulder and then back again.

As her honey-like smile continued to widen, she spoke once more, "My fiancé…"

The man came to stand at her side, towering above Lady Alice as a troll would over an elf or sprite.  
"Aristide Stein," he introduced himself. "It is kind of you to have us, Earl Phantomhive."

With a voice like shards of glass, Aristide Stein's words sent a fleeting chill along Ciel's spine.  
"It's a pleasure," he replied, though rather stiffly, as though he were being choked, before gesturing towards Sebastian, who stood quietly alongside the manor's entrance, "Sebastian will take your luggage to your room."

The demon in disguise gave a bow, and Lady Alice thanked him. Aristide Stein, however, only appeared disgusted, his lips tightening into a straight line and his eyes growing ever colder as he took his fiancé's arm and led her inside. Ciel watched them, feeling the hairs upon his neck stand on end and his cheeks lose their colour, and upon Sebastian's face he could see his own disquiet reflected.

 **~•~**

By the time lunch arrived, clouds – heavy, as though they carried the world upon their shoulders, and grey like smoke – had moved to bruise the sky. Moans of thunder rattled the window frames as a chilly wind blew from what seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. The dim light of the chandelier cast shadows throughout the dining room, and in its artificial, golden illumination Ciel felt certain that he may well have been speaking with two who had been brought back from the dead. Lady Alice and Aristide Stein appeared both to glow – like some ethereal beings – as well as to melt as if they had been turned to wax, the pallor of their flesh striking against the darkness that painted their features in obscurity. But, oh, there remained Aristide Stein's eyes, dazzling as he stared through the gloom into Ciel, threatening never to leave him throughout their stay within his manor.

Of course, then, it came as a relief when Lady Alice and her fiance ate little and retired rather quickly after lunch.  
"We have been left quite weary after our journey," Aristide Stein had said.  
"Perhaps, however, tomorrow we might take a small tour. I would love to see the gardens," Lady Alice had suggested.  
"It would be my pleasure," Ciel had lied.  
And with that, the pair left to their room, entrancing in their way as well as dreadfully unsettling. Ciel watched them, chewing slowly on the remainder of food that had latterly lay scattered upon his plate and feeling as though his throat could hardly manage to swallow.

Lady Alice had surprised the young earl, who initially assumed that there was little concealed behind her pretty face. Through their exchanges during lunch, however, though she was the quiet type, it became apparent that she possessed quite the intellect. One which may even have rivalled Ciel's own. In addition, she had opinions – educated opinions – on things and matters most women of her age and social standing had not even the slightest understanding of, and spoke impressive English for one who was French. Amiable, observant, cultured and curious without being intrusive, Ciel could have enjoyed Lady Alice's company.  
That is, if it weren't for her fiancé…

"Is anything the matter, my lord?" Sebastian asked, already knowing the answer.  
Ciel didn't reply at first, annoyed by the snake-like hiss of his butler's voice and not yet fully recovered from the encounter with his guests. He quite regretted having offered Phantomhive Manor to them, feeling as though his home had been opened to an intruder who would have been best left in Paris, or – even better – at the bottom of the English Channel.  
Finally, after some moments in silence, he queried, "What are your thoughts on Lady Alice, Sebastian?"  
"She is likeable enough," the butler stated, before adding with a queer smirk, "The servants, however, are rather perturbed that she should share a room with Master Stein."  
"And what of _him_?"  
Now it was Sebastian's turn not to reply for seconds that seemed to be hours.

"I cannot deny that there is something about him I find to be rather… unsettling."  
"Hmm," Ciel agreed quietly, sensing the shift in his butler's calm. "Be sure to keep an eye on him Sebastian."  
"Yes, my lord." 


End file.
